


New Sun

by I_Write_Sins_and_Tragedies



Series: By The King's Side You Belong [2]
Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: And Enkidu seeing straight through him, Comfort, Could be read as them either being friends or lovers, Gilgamesh totally not being a little bit homesick, Mild Fluff, Other, Post-Babylonia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25406680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Write_Sins_and_Tragedies/pseuds/I_Write_Sins_and_Tragedies
Summary: The sun that rose over Uruk always brought with it golden light...The sun that rose over these lands was orange...
Relationships: Enkidu & Gilgamesh (Mesopotamian Mythology), Enkidu/Gilgamesh (Mesopotamian Mythology)
Series: By The King's Side You Belong [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840099
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	New Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh it wasn't clear to me whether Gil was a Servant or actually alive during Babylonia (they probably said and I missed it since I binged the whole thing in one day). But I'm operating on the premise of the latter. Because I can.

The sun that rose over Uruk always brought with it golden light, peeking through dawn's fragile pink curtains. It would rise high, high up above, a blinding zenith crowning the city until everything shone and glittered with mirages. Then, just as gracefully as it awoke, it would sink down to the other side of the horizon, gold light fading into the purple blanket of the darkening dusk sky.

The sun that rose over these lands was orange, setting the early morning earth on fire, turning the air molten. It was harsh in its beauty, heavy-handed compared to its once elegantly understated awakenings. Gilgamesh was not so weak as to grow maudlin, but perhaps he did carry some sentimentality with him. He stared out of this new palace's window, taking in a view old enough to be recognizable, yet young enough that it couldn't claim familiarity.

He was a long-lived man, and with that reality came the inevitability of change. It would be childish not to accept such change gracefully...but perhaps there was a more fundamentally human part of himself that couldn't help a twinge of homesickness, every now and again.

"Gil." But for all that had changed, there were some things that never did. The sound of his name from Enkidu's lips was infallible, the same now as it had been the first ten, twenty, hundred times over. The sight of them sleep-mussed and bed-headed was just the same. The loose white nightgown they had worn to sleep was off kilter, making a lazy escape down one shoulder inch by inch with each smooth step they took. "You look like your mind is a hundred miles away, my friend."

"Perhaps it is." Gilgamesh said. There was no point in dishonesty, not with someone who could see through him as easily as glass. And that aside, he had never wasted words on falsities with his friend.

Enkidu's slender fingers threaded through his hair, brushing it back out of his face into a semblance of the style he once had favored. Their smile painted itself gently across their face, until it dappled the corners of their eyes with an honesty of their own. "A lot of things have changed, haven't they?"

"Change is by necessity a part of humanity's growth. Had things not changed, then everything would stagnate and rot."

Enkidu made a soft noise of agreement at that, and the look they gave him was as much knowing as it was fond. "But some things never change." Their smile was an echo of hundreds before it, yet it fit perfectly in this moment. Just as always, Gilgamesh thought, and he was sure his own smile was the same.

He ran a hand through Enkidu's hair then. Even after a night of tossing and turning, there didn't seem to be any tangles in it. None that his fingers did not slide through as easily as a knife through butter. Cool silky strands hung close to a warm body, a texture no fabric could ever hope to compare to. "No, some things never do."

Humanity would always change and grow, but he was no more human than this clay creation in front of him. It was the right of beings like them to oversee humanity in its expansion, intertwined yet entirely separate...save from each other.

The morning sun rose as slowly as magma over the burnt horizon, pouring its honey-orange light across the world. Gilgamesh watched it play off of the hair between his fingers, and in that glistening shade of sepia-kissed green, he found the first and oldest inklings of a home's comfort. 


End file.
